


Take Your Pick

by Asreoniplier (AsreonInfusion)



Category: Video Blogging RPF, jacksepticeye, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Abuse, Anal Sex, Consensual Non-Consent, Consent Issues, Demon Sex, Derogatory Language, Dirty Talk, Double Penetration, Dubious Consent, Edgeplay, F/M, Fear Play, Knifeplay, Mental Coercion, Multi, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Overstimulation, Painplay, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Sex, Sexual Coercion, Spitroasting, Tentacle Dick, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Sex, Weird Biology
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-16
Updated: 2018-09-08
Packaged: 2019-05-24 07:38:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14950427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AsreonInfusion/pseuds/Asreoniplier
Summary: You nevermeantto sell your soul to either Dark or Anti, and certainly not both. But they seem to think that’s exactly what you’ve done. Now they’ve decided you need to choose between them, you’re going to have to face the consequences.[Anti/Reader, Dark/Reader, Dark/Reader/Anti threesome, very much NSFW. Reader is cis female. This is essentially just a PWP series.]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> (Sorry for the double upload!! Either AO3 or my internet was being a piece of shit yesterday and just went to a 'this site cannot be reached' page whenever I tried to upload the fic, so I gave up... then come back today to find it _has_ posted, and multiple times. Ugh.)
> 
> Hoo boy. This is basically just a smut fic, with the reader getting fucked by Anti and Dark. They’re very much demons and not particularly nice about it; there’s dubious consent and threats and coercion, though the reader is into anyway. There’s a knife involved (it is Anti, after all), though not a huge amount of knifeplay, and then scratches and bruising and rough sex. And weird demon anatomy, including fuckin’ tentacle dicks. Did you want tentacle dicks? You’re getting tentacle dicks.
> 
> (Dark is the one with tentacle dicks; Anti has a weirdly shaped demon dick, but it’s still mostly humanoid. His sex scene is first, so you could read that then stop before the tentacles if that ain’t your thing I guess.)
> 
> With regards to the sex… if there’s a hole that can be fucked, it’s getting something in there. Vaginal sex, anal, oral (blowjob and cunnillingus), double penetration, spit-roasting. Other warnings are probably some kind of mind control/mental influence from Dark, derogatory names, edging, overstimulation, worth noting again that they’re really not that nice about it at times, and I did mention the tentacle dicks, right? 
> 
> I think that covers everything. >> Uhh. Enjoy?
> 
> ((The tentacle dick idea was stolen from and used with permission of a friend from another fandom, but they deserve better than to have their name associated with my bullshittery. xD;;))

It was always going to catch up with you eventually. You should have known that. You just… hadn’t expected it to be like _this_.

They’re here. Both of them. Dark and Anti, and your blood feels like it’s turned to ice.

You felt the change in the air, suddenly charged and thunderous like an oncoming storm. The lights flicked and faded, plunging the house into a dull grey half-light, and all the other electronics crackled and shut off in a violent burst of static. It made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end; that was _not_ right.

So you walked out into the living room, maybe to go and check on the fuse box or something mundanely sensible like that, and found two demons waiting for you instead.

Your eyes widen and your heart misses a beat, the shock of fear so intense you can’t even breathe for several long, painful moments. Your chest is too tight to get the air in.

Words aren’t any easier. “Wh… what are you doing here?!” you demand, voice shaking.

Dark tilts his head as he evaluates you, cold eyes slowly running over you from head to toe. You feel like he can see right into your soul, frozen like a deer in headlights beneath his scrutiny. He finally gestures vaguely to the sofa.

“Why don’t you take a seat,” he offers, and fuck. His voice. You’ve heard it in videos before, but in person it’s… you can almost feel it reverberating through you, deep and smooth and hypnotic.

You swallow. Hard. But you sit down as directed.

“What’s going on?” you try again. Your mind is racing as fast as your pulse, trying to make sense of their sudden and entirely unexpected appearance. You hadn’t done _anything_ that could warrant two goddamn demons showing up in your house. Well—there were some tiny, stupid little things you’d said in the past, but nothing real or remotely serious. You weren’t exactly in the habit of summoning demons. So there was no way… was there?

Dark is the one who speaks. He’s standing in front of you, composed, hands behind his back and only the faintest outline of his red and blue auras flickering around him. “You _are_ aware of the fundamental fact that humans possess only one soul, correct, dear? Most people have at least that much understanding.”

Your eyebrows furrow together, mouth open but no words to say. Because, honestly, w _hat?_ That wasn’t what you were expecting at all, and it does nothing to answer your questions. Your eyes flick over to Anti, to where he’s leaning against the wall. He seems as though he’s just casually watching the proceedings, but the little glitches and the way he smiles as he toys with his knife, staring straight at you, has such a subtly menacing aura that you instinctively shrink back into the sofa.

“I… yes?”

“Funny,” Anti says, acid sarcasm lacing his accent. “Guess that just makes ya a two-timing little whore then.”

You baulk at the accusation. “Excuse me?!”

“If you only have one soul,” Dark says, calmly but ever so coldly, “you cannot sell it to two separate people. Unless you were attempting to cheat them.”

Anti shoots you a thoroughly unsettling grin, all bared teeth. “An’ demons don’t take kindly to bein’ cheated, doll.”

You can feel panic starting to well up in your chest. You’re still not sure exactly what’s brought this on, or what the hell this is about souls, but it’s clear they’re not very happy with you. And that puts you in a very bad position.

“I never sold my soul to either of you!”

Irritation flashes across Dark’s face. He breathes out, then smiles icily at you. “Really. Were your exact words not ‘ _you can have my soul_ ’?”

“I…” You choke on the words.

“You wanted to meet your _hero_ , and you got what you wanted. Now you need to hold up your end of the bargain.”

You shake your head in helpless denial. Dark is _right_ , technically. You remember that night, and you _did_ say that. It’s just… you’d never meant it literally; it was just hyperbole, just a stupid joke. You’d never honestly expected to get what you’d asked for. God. It wasn’t like you’d even been talking to Dark. You’d just been talking to yourself, muttering nervous nonsense; how the hell did he even _know?_

In fact, you’d never said Dark’s name. That gives you some resolve. “I wasn’t talking to _you_ when I made that deal. It’s none of your business.”

Whatever scathing reply Dark was about to make was interrupted by a snort from Anti. “Told ya. You’ve got no fuckin’ claim; that one is _mine_.”

“I didn’t sell my soul to you either,” you shoot back at Anti.

You immediately regret raising your voice even slightly to him. Anti pushes himself away from the wall and stalks towards you; every instinct screams at you to back away, but there’s nowhere to go while sitting. So you jump to your feet, facing him while you stumble backwards towards the door.

Dark watches with ironic amusement. It’s his influence that makes reality darken and twist around you, the house letting out a shrieking creak as it’s bent to his will. By the time you’re backed up against the door, it isn’t even a door anymore; the wood has warped together into the wall. Dark’s trapped you in here with Anti.

There’s nowhere left to go, and Anti is far too close. He presses you up against the wall, and you can’t help but let out a quiet whimper.

“I’d say ya did,” he says. Anti traces a finger over your throat; it’s faint, impossible to see unless you knew what you were looking for, but there’s still a scar there. One that mirrors the gash across Anti’s neck. “You wanted me so bad you took a knife to your own throat and slit it just like mine, ain’t that right? Kinda cute.”

“That’s not…” You swallow. It hadn’t been your best moment; you’d had a lot of stress going on, and then Anti’s appearance on the channel on top of it, and you’d let yourself get far too caught up in everything and just… let go of sense. “It was just a stupid scratch, it doesn’t mean—”

“ _I_ would call it a blood pact,” Anti interrupts. “Such a good little puppet, marking yerself as mine.”

“I’m not yours! I don’t belong to either of you, I don’t _want_ anything to do with either of you. Just… leave me alone. Please.”

“Lying is not becoming of you,” Dark says, folding his arms as he watches you and Anti. “For a start, all of your previous actions indicate you have more than a little interest in us.”

Anti smirks. “Yeah. Don’t think I don’t know what _else_ you were doin’ while you had that knife all pressed up against ya.”

You feel your face immediately heat up. Oh, god. He can’t… how the hell does Anti know about that?

He lifts his knife and presses it against your throat, just enough pressure that you can feel the cold, sharp edge of the blade bite into your skin. Your breath catches, knees starting to feel weak. The flush on your face only increases.

“S’this what ya wanted?” Anti purrs. “My knife against your throat while I fuck you and make you scream my name?”

“I d-don’t—”

“Anti,” Dark interjects sharply. “You’re missing the point of this exercise.”

Anti rolls his eyes, but backs off. You’re not sure if you’re relieved or disappointed. Your stomach is doing some very weird backflips; you can’t work out if it’s fear or some sick kind of arousal. Maybe both. You don’t want to think about that too hard.

“What is the point, then?” you manage to stammer out. You need to find out what they want from you, and work out how the hell to get out of this situation.

Dark gives you one of those smug, superior little smiles. “It is clear you belong to us, but you cannot be owned by us both. There is no fair way of settling the argument between myself and Anti; therefore, the choice is yours.” Dark opens his arms in an inviting gesture. “Take your pick. Who would you rather was the master of your soul?”

Anti glares daggers at Dark, a sneer turning up his lips. “You think just ‘cause you’re all smart in your fuckin’ suit and got yer pretty words everyone’s gonna fall for you, huh?”

“I don’t hold knives against people’s throats and threaten to fuck them.”

“Hah _,_ ” Anti snorts. “Well, you don’t know your ‘fans’ at all, do ya?”

Anti turns back to you, a grin back on his face and a look in his eyes that’s almost… hungry. He suddenly presses you against the wall again, his body against yours to pin you in place, and you let out a squeak of surprise. The tip of the knife grazes against your cheek like a caress.

“They’re all sick fuckin’ freaks,” Anti says. He’s talking to Dark still, but the way he says it so lowly by your ear sends shivers through you. “A knife against their throat is exactly what they _want_. They’re just dying to get fucked up. Ain’t that right, doll?”

“A-Anti,” you protest. But you can’t deny it. Maybe he’s right. Maybe you are some kind of sick, perverted freak, because you should be terrified. You _are_ terrified; you have been ever since you walked in and saw them here. But the fear only adds to the thrill as Anti gently pierces your skin and carves a shallow line down your cheek. You can feel the blood well up and trickle down to your jaw, and you moan quietly.

This is messed up. You’re messed up.

Anti presses the knife back to your throat, and then his other hand slowly glides down your body. His hands are more like claws, fingers blackened and too long and tipped with dangerously sharp nails. You can feel them catch even through your clothes.

When Anti slides his hand beneath your top, his skin against yours, his touch feels like static.

Your breathing is already growing panted and shallow. You’re hyperaware of every touch, muscles trembling beneath the scratch of Anti’s nails over your hips and stomach.

“Enough, Anti,” Dark says, voice calm and measured; almost bored. Either he’s entirely unaffected by the display you two are making, or he’s very well versed in disguising it. “Don’t make the young lady do anything she’ll regret.”

He’s still trying to win you over, you realise. Being the sane one, the safe one.

“Regret my _ass_ , ya stuck-up prick.” Anti laughs and digs his nails into you, clawing them down your side until you cry out. From the pain, but there’s an undeniable note of pleasure in there too. “Masochistic little slut. Don’t even need’ta do anything to you and you’re already makin’ noises like that.”

“Anti—” you gasp. You’re not even sure what you wanted to say. Maybe you just wanted to moan his name.

“Bet if I touched ya you’d already be so fuckin’ wet for me.”

He’s… he’s not wrong.

Anti lowers the knife, grabbing your top with one hand and slicing through it in one quick violent motion that makes you jerk back in surprise, crying out. He cuts the sleeves, and the remains of the fabric flutter to the ground while you’re still reeling. He slashes your bra off as well – asshole, those are expensive – and then laughs at you as your arm flies up to cover yourself.

He grabs your wrist and pulls you away from the wall, twisting your arm up around your back until you let out a quiet whimper from the pain. He’s standing behind you now, knife hovering around your collar, and his grip on your arm forces your chest out. You let out a moan as he drags the knife down, leaving any angry red line all the way down your sternum and stomach and to your navel.

“Look at this shit and tell me I ain’t giving the little whore exactly want she wants.”

You realise Anti is talking to Dark again. Right. Dark’s still there, watching your every move, and Anti’s practically putting you on display for him. That sends another shudder of pure arousal through you. Dark is _watching_.

Anti lets go of your arm, but you don’t try to cover yourself again. He lazily circles the point of the knife around one of your nipples, while the fingernails of his other hand stroke over your lower stomach. So close to the waistline of your jeans.

Lower. You want him to go lower.

“Anti, _please_ ,” you say, voice cracking. God, how did you end up like this? Face to face with two fucking demons, and you’re as much turned on as you are terrified. Face flushed, eyes unfocused. You can feel your arousal aching between your legs, quickly growing so desperate. “I-I… fuck. I need you to touch me.”

Anti laughs; the sound of it is more cruel than anything else, and it makes your hair stand on end. Because he’s still a monster. He’s a monster and you’re letting him slide his hand down the front of your jeans and you’re getting off on it. You really are a sick little freak.

“That’s what I thought,” he says smugly. He curls his fingers against you, rubbing you through your underwear, and _fuck_. That feels good. It really, really shouldn’t, but it does. The moan you make is embarrassingly needy.

You almost whine when he stops, but then he undoes your jeans instead, so you can’t complain too much. He’s getting impatient, roughly dragging your jeans and underwear down to your knees, clawed fingers leaving vivid, violent scratches against your thighs as he does so. He shoves your shoulder, pushing you down until you’re kneeling, and kicks your knees apart so your legs are spread wide for him.

There’s the sound of a zipper being undone behind you, and your stomach clenches. Oh, god. This is actually happening, he’s actually going to fuck you, and your head is spinning and you shouldn’t want it but you need it so badly.

Anti grips your hair and tugs your head round; he’s still standing while you’re on your knees, and that puts you at perfect height for his very erect cock to rub against your cheek. It’s— _oh_.

That… is not normal human anatomy. You’re not sure why you’re that surprised; he’s a demon, he has claws and those blacked out eyes and why not a weirdly-shaped demonic dick as well, but. It’s oddly pointed, lined with raised, ridged bumps, and widens thickly at the base. So alien-looking, almost monstrous, but apparently you’re filthy enough that that just turns you on even more. The idea of having that thing inside you sends a flash of heat curling through your gut.

Anti laughs again, the sound of it glitching with his excitement and arousal. “Oh, you fuckin’ want it so bad.” He grins at Dark, more bared teeth than a smile. “Told ya they were all little cocksluts.”

You don’t have enough thoughts left in your head to protest the name, and even if you did, you’re not in any position to deny it right now.

He yanks your head back, baring your throat, and then the knife is pressing into you again. “You’re gonna stay very still and you’re gonna let me fuck you however I like, ‘cause if you don’t, you’re gettin’ your throat slit open. Got it?”

You would’ve let him fuck you anyway at this point, but the threat just makes it even hotter. You try to nod, as much as you can in your current predicament; the movement only digs the blade deeper into you, and you hiss. You can feel the warmth of blood as it wells up where the skin’s split.

Anti gets down behind you, free hand gripping your hip and holding you in place. You can feel his cock pressed against your ass, then he slides it between your thighs and you moan shakily as it grinds against you.

“Please,” you beg. You should be begging him not to do this, if you had any sense left at all, but it’s far too late for that. You can’t stop this now; it hurts like a physical ache with how badly you need him inside you. It’s almost more fun to pretend you don’t want it, though. Sick little freak.

The head of his cock presses against your wet, aching entrance; you don’t even have a chance to take a breath before he’s shoving inside.

You scream his name as he penetrates you.

It’s a blissful relief to finally have something in you, and _fuck_. He fills you up so good. You can feel yourself clenching and twitching around Anti’s cock, body automatically reacting to the pleasure. But at the same time, he’s not gentle. Of course he fucking isn’t.

Anti grips your hip tight enough that his clawed fingers carve chunks out of your skin, leaving it bloody and bruised. He gives a few rough, experimental thrusts to find his rhythm, and then starts pounding into you mercilessly.

“ _Anti!_ ” you choke out. Oh, god. It hurts a little with how rough he’s being, but at the same time every thrust sends pleasure searing through your nerves. The pain only makes it better. And you can feel it, the weird shape of his cock; the curve of it rubs inside you in the absolute best way, and those little ridges of cartilage along the sides, and how thick it is when he’s so deep inside you and—

You let your head fall back against Anti’s shoulder, moaning helplessly as he uses you.

You’re going to cum. He’s barely even done anything; no foreplay, no teasing you. But you’re so worked up just from the fact it’s _Anti_ , from the knife against your throat, from the thrill of fear that floods your body with adrenaline. From the way he buries his cock inside you, your eyes rolling back as he thrusts into you over and over like he owns you.

You can feel yourself shaking as the pleasure builds with alarming intensity. You’re being loud, embarrassingly so, but it’s impossible to hold back the gasps and whimpers and choked moans that Anti forces out of you.

You can’t even form words. The sound you make is more of a broken sob as you rapidly reach your peak, heated pleasure washing through you and leaving you a trembling, panting wreck.

Anti laughs cruelly again, voice glitching and a little breathless from the exertion. He slows his thrusts slightly just to enjoy the way you’re clenching down around his cock. “Little whore,” he hisses in your ear. “You came so quickly just from being fucked like this.”

Not that he’s far behind. Anti eases the pressure off from the knife against your throat, his mouth replacing it and tasting the blood he’s drawn from you. He bites down at the edge of the wound, sinking his teeth into your flesh at the same time his cock twitches and bucks inside you. He holds you in place, buried to the hilt, and all you can do is squirm helplessly as he shoots his load deep into you.

Your face feels like it’s on fire, bright red with shame and arousal. You just let the glitch demon fuck you and use you and fill you up with his cum and, oh god, it felt so good. He slowly slides his cock out of you, and you can feel the wet gush of his seed and your own slick juices trickling down you.

“Look at what a mess you are,” Anti purrs, claws raking along the inside of your thighs and leaving raised welts. You shudder, still over-sensitive in the aftermath.

Then he stands up, shoving you forward as he does so, obviously finished with you now he’s had his way. And you don’t have the strength or presence of mind to be able to catch yourself in time; you would’ve end up a wrecked heap on the floor if it weren’t for—

Dark. Dark catches you as you topple forward, and you suddenly find yourself pressed against his chest.

“Really, Anti,” Dark tuts. He still sounds mostly composed, but there’s a much darker undertone to his voice now, something hungry and wanting. Maybe he’s not so unaffected by watching Anti fuck you after all.

Dark tilts your jaw back so you meet his eyes; your gaze is still glazed and unfocused, but the way he looks back at you is so piercing you feel like he could stare straight into your soul. It makes your breath catch. That, and the fact you’re naked and panting and being held against a still fully-clothed Dark with cum dripping out between your legs and Dark looking at you like he wants to devour you.

Fuck. You’ve just been used so thoroughly by Anti, and you haven’t had a chance to recover at all, but already you can feel your interest stirring again.

Dark’s eyes rake over you, taking in your abused state, and he huffs a short laugh. But it’s not you he addresses. “Crude, mindless, and violent. You’re no better than an animal.”

You hear Anti snort. He’s fixed his jeans back into place and has moved over to lounge on the sofa, sprawling lazily like a satisfied cat and watching your interactions with Dark with amused interest. “You saw exactly how much the little slut got off on it.”

“So degrading as well,” Dark says. They’re just talking over the top of you, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Dark runs his hands down your sides, the touch soothing over the scratches and bruises Anti has left clawed into you; you sigh and lean your weight into him.

You hear him speak again, somewhere amongst your haze, and it takes you a moment to realise that Dark is actually talking to you now. “Why don’t I show you how much more pleasurable this could be?” he offers in a low, seductive purr.

God, that voice does things to you.

You’re already so fucked out, sore all over, but at the same time electrified with the need for more. You want Dark as well. “Y-yes…” you gasp.

“Good.” He smirks, then leans in and presses his lips against yours.

The kiss isn’t brutal in the same way Anti treated you, but it’s still… intense. Dark takes dominance over you easily, a hand tangling into your hair and pulling your head back while his tongue claims your mouth. It’s deep and thorough and quietly demanding; it makes you feel helpless, like you can’t fight back at all. Not that you would even want to.

Anti’s the sort to take you by force; Dark’s more likely to take you by messing with your head until you forget how to say no.

You have no idea if he’s doing anything to fuck with your mind or not now; given the ease with which you gave in to Anti, it’s hardly any surprise that you’re so quickly turning into putty in Dark’s hands. The kiss leaves you panting, knees weak. Dark runs his hand down your spine and you shiver under his touch, arching into him.

He’s all seduction and charm like this, touches gentle but firm, insistently stroking against you. He takes his time, that kiss slowly driving you mad while he caresses your hips and your sides and then reaches up to cup your breasts. You let out a soft moan at that.

You try to reach up to wrap your arms around his shoulders, return the favour, but he pulls away. He smiles at you, but the warmth doesn’t reach his eyes. “No touching. Arms behind your back,” he commands.

You obey without thinking, moving into position without any conscious intention of doing so. It’s not even until you have your arms behind you, each hand gripping the opposite forearm, that you realise you’ve even done it. That’s… worrying. Your head is spinning too much, too caught up in Dark’s charm. Can he just tell you to do anything and you’d obey?

Dark must be able to see the touch of panic in your eyes, because his smile grows wider and crueller. He _is_ in your head, isn’t he?

“D-Dark. You don’t need to… I want this, I’ll do what you say, you don’t have to control me.”

“Oh,” he purrs, voice deep and cold, “but isn’t it more fun if I do?”

Fear settles like ice in the pit of your stomach. Fuck. Dark might not be as outwardly violent and terrifying as Anti, but you were stupid to imagine that makes him any less dangerous.

It makes your chest tighten, pulse rate spiking rapidly. But at the same time, you can feel your face flushing; why the fuck is it that the more scared you are of them, the more they turn you on?

Dark wraps his arm around your waist and shifts your position, picking you up and laying you out on the top of the coffee table. On your back, your arms beneath you still so you’re forced to arch your back. Your jeans are still hooked around your ankles; you kick them off, and then Dark is parting your thighs.

You bite your lip, trying to muffle your groan of surprise as Dark sinks down between your legs. He latches his mouth onto your inner thigh, bruising a vivid hickey right on top of a scratch Anti left, and you struggle not to moan. You’re going to have so many marks left all over you after this.

Dark moves in, and he’s—he’s not actually going to go down on you, is he? ‘Cause that’s where it looks like he’s going, and it’s not like you’re going to complain, but you would never have thought that someone like Dark would—

The thought flees your mind as Dark’s tongue curls against your clit. “Fuck! Dark!”

You arch up, thighs and stomach tensing. You should have figured from the way he was kissing you, but _god_ , his tongue does the most deliciously sinful things. You moan helplessly as he licks his way lower, pressing his tongue inside you. He eats you out every bit as deeply and thoroughly as he had kissed you and _fuck_.

It feels good; too good, better than it has any right too. You can feel Dark’s influence in your head, fuelling your pleasure until you’re nearly delirious with it. You can’t breathe, can’t think. All you can do is gasp Dark’s name over and over like a litany, praying for his mercy. If he had any.

Heat builds up again in you, all too rapidly. His tongue stroking inside you feels like it’s going to drive you to the brink of insanity if you can’t cum soon.

“D-Dark, oh, _god_ , please.” You don’t even know what you're saying, just letting mindless, desperate pleas fall from your lips. “I’m so close, I n-need… Dark, let me cum, _please_ , I can’t—”

“I don’t think so,” he replies smugly, pulling away and just leaving you like that, a trembling, needy wreck. The smirk on his face as he stares down at you is almost callous.

Anti makes an approving noise; he’s undone his fly again, just enough to free his cock, and he’s stroking himself while he watches you come undone beneath Dark’s ministrations. “That’s fuckin’ disgusting,” he says, though he sounds delighted. “Ye do realise there’s already my cum all over that bitch’s cunt?”

Dark stares Anti dead in the eyes as he runs a finger over your cum-slick entrance, then lifts it to his lips and pointedly licks it clean. Anti cackles hysterically, but the same shiver of arousal runs through both of you.

He turns his attention back to you, and it feels like you’re pinned in place beneath the intensity of Dark’s gaze. He trails his fingers along your thigh. “Do you want to cum now, or would you rather I fucked you first?” he purrs.

It’s hardly a choice; you can already tell from that cold expression that he’s not going to let you cum that easily. And it’s not like you’d turn down the chance to have him inside you, even if you were allowed to. “Fuck me…” you plead softly.

“Good girl.”

The praise – as detached and impersonal as it is – still makes heat curl through you. You need him. You want to please him. You’d do anything for him. He’s in your head and wrapping you around his fingers, and you can’t focus enough through the aroused haze in your mind to care.

The sound of his zipper being undone makes your breath catch. If Anti had that weird demonic anatomy, does that mean Dark will as well? He’s generally the more humanoid of the two, so maybe not. But that part of you that makes you a sick little freak is hoping for something fucked up and monstrous.

Well, you get your wish.

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” you blurt out instinctively. Dark pushes his trousers down his thighs; not even undressing, uncovering himself only just enough to get to you. And his cock… can you even call it that? Anti was human _oid_ , at least. Dark is just… tentacles. Those are tentacles.

They start from where his dick should, but there’s four of them, black as the void. They’re about the same length as expected, but slimmer, maybe two fingers worth of thickness each. And they _move_ like tentacles, and all you can imagine is them stuffed into you, stroking you from the inside and—

A full-bodied shudder runs through you; you’re so instantly turned on just by the idea of it that it feels like you’re ready to cum the second he touches you.

Dark smirks, knowing exactly what it’s doing to you. “It is very easy for me to maintain a human form if I wish. But I think you’d enjoy this more, wouldn’t you?” The way he says it makes you feel filthy for wanting it, but you can’t deny that you do. So now you’re a sick freak _and_ a monster-fucker.

You don’t know why you’re surprised anymore.

“Dark,” you whimper. You want it so badly, desperately aching to have him inside you. Your face is flushed, pulse racing and breathing ragged. So needy.

You moan loudly when you feel another firm rub against your clit, then louder again when you realise… that wasn’t Dark’s hands. One of the tentacles is curled against your clit, the tip of it flicking over the sensitive bundle of nerves until you’re trembling, but it’s not even just that because they can move fucking independently and the others are spreading you open with the fourth and final one probing at your slick, twitching entrance and all you can do is sob at the overwhelming sensations of everything.

Dark leans over you, his hips flush against yours and elbows braced on either side of your shoulders. “Don’t forget,” he murmurs lowly, seductive yet icily threatening at the same time, “you do _not_ cum before I say you can.”

The prospect of what will happen if you do is terrifying. And the worst of it is, you don’t know if you’re going to be able to hold back like this. But you nod helplessly anyway.

Then that tentacle is sliding inside you, and all you can do is groan. It goes in easily; you’re so wet and needy and already stretched out from Anti’s cock. A second one joins it almost immediately, twining together with the first, and you let out a choked gasp. Two of them together is a lot thicker than Anti was, and _god_ , you feel so blissfully full.

Dark starts moving, slowly at first, but even that is enough to make you feel like you’re losing your mind. Your hands clench into fists beneath your back, head falling back and eyes closing involuntarily as you succumb to sheer sensation. It’s so good, but so fucking alien at the same time; they’re not just fucking you, but flexing and rubbing inside you at the same time, and the moment Dark finds the spot that makes you scream his name he doesn’t fucking stop hitting it with every single thrust.

Two tentacles inside you, that one that’s toying with your clit, and then the last makes its way lower. It rubs against your perineum, coating itself in your slick juices and all the mess that’s already leaked out of you – there’s more than enough of that – before rubbing against your ass. You tense.

“Dark—” you try to protest, but only end up moaning his name.

He smiles, but the expression is terrifying. “Relax,” he advises, and you choke on a laugh at the absurdity of it. You’re being fucked by a demon with tentacles for a dick, overwhelmed by pleasure – so on edge and god, you wish you could let go and just _cum_ already, but you can’t, you’re not allowed, even though you need it so bad – and now there’s another tentacle that wants to fuck your ass, and he tells you to relax.

Why not. Honestly, at this point, why not. Let him fuck you in any damn hole he pleases; you’re just a toy for him to use. The growing realisation of that leaves you with a sickened sensation in the pit of your stomach, but at the same time your own helplessness turns you on even more.

At least he’s a lot nicer about it than Anti would have been. The tentacle stretches you open slowly, sinking in inch by inch, and it doesn’t hurt like you were afraid it would. It’s… good. It makes you feel absolutely fucking filthy, stretched open and so damn _full_ until it’s almost uncomfortable, but at the same time you love how dirty it is. And any discomfort quickly fades when Dark starts moving.

He fucks you steadily, smoothly and deeply and all you can do is arch and writhe on those goddamn fucking tentacles inside you and _fuck_. It really doesn’t take much of that until you’re panting again, shaking with the effort of holding back. Oh, god. It feels so good now, nothing but heat and pleasure, so much fucking pleasure, and—you’re close. Really close.

“Dark, _please!!_ I can’t—I need to cum, let me cum,” you beg.

“Look at me,” he demands. It’s so hard to when every thrust just makes your eyes want to roll back, but you try. You regret trying.

He’s… fuck. It’s not like he’s changed, he still looks human – tentacles aside – but there’s an energy around him; a darkness gathered like a thunderstorm, his auras, the ringing in your ears, an unfathomable depth and coldness in his gaze. It’s just a fraction of a glimpse of what he truly is, but the eldritch horror of it is terrifying.

“Tell me that you’re _mine_ ,” he growls, his voice deep and reverberating and you want to scream but you can’t even do that, absolutely petrified.

Anti is the one who breaks the spell, and does so by casually landing a suckerpunch to the side of Dark’s face. You shriek in surprise, but Dark doesn’t even look phased or hurt in the slightest. Just very, very annoyed. He glowers murderously at the other demon.

“That is absolutely not playin’ fair, ya prick,” Anti hisses.

“Nobody set any rules.”

Anti’s fingers twitch around the hilt of his knife, like he’s so very tempted to try and settle the matter of who you belong to with Dark himself after all. But then his eyes fall on you instead, and he grins. “Well,” he drawls, “if that’s the case.”

He glitches to other side of the coffee table you’re laid out over, and then his hand is gripping your hair and yanking your head back. His thick cock is hard and flushed and beaded with precum, the head of it brushing against your cheek.

“You don’t mind if I keep yer mouth occupied, do ya, doll?”

You know you’re fucked when Anti seems the safer option. You swallow, then nod. You turn your head to the side, lips brushing along the length of his erection before parting to take the head into your mouth and suck on him. Anti gives a delighted, glitching little moan.

Dark is less pleased by Anti’s interruption. The tentacles inside you start moving again; Dark had been conscious of your pleasure as well before, fucking your deep and steady, but this time he doesn’t care for such niceties. This time it’s harder, faster, using you exactly like the worthless little toy you are to him. And Anti responds in kind; he pulls your head back until it’s upside-down, your mouth and throat a straight line for him to fuck into. Which is exactly what it does.

You choke around Anti’s cock as he pushes deeper into your mouth than you were ready to handle, tears springing to the corners of your eyes as you struggle to breathe. It gets easier as Anti pulls out and thrusts back in again; you manage to pick up on his rhythm, to gasp in desperate, shallow breaths when you can, and you start to enjoy having his hot, heavy cock in your mouth. You swallow around him, tongue running along those ridges – it’s so alien and kind of fascinating, and you wish you had more presence of mind to enjoy it.

But whatever sanity you had left is rapidly broken.

They’re both using you, taking you from both ends, every hole you have being filled and fucked and you’ve never felt more filthy or turned on in your entire life. You can’t even think. There’s too many sensations for you to focus on anything, and you’re so worked up and sensitive after being so close to cumming twice only to have Dark deny you. It still feels so good, but _too_ good, pleasure blurring with pain. The overstimulation leaves you an absolute wreck, tears trickling freely down your cheeks now.

You don’t even have the use of your mouth to beg. If you could, you would. You’d say anything, agree to anything, sell yourself to them as many times as they wanted if they would just _let you cum_.

It must be obvious from the cadence of your broken, muffled moans, how badly you’re trembling, the way you’re clenching down around Dark’s tentacles inside you. Dark laughs, voice still cold but laced with his own pleasure as well now. “Do you need it, pet?”

You can’t answer or even nod, but your desperate whine is clear enough.

“I suppose you’ve been a decent little fucktoy. Cum for me.”

The permission is all you need. You break on the very next thrust, orgasm washing over you in shuddering waves of white-hot pleasure until it drowns out every single one of your senses. Your head is spinning, light-headed and overheated, and the intensity of it steals your breath away.

You’re only vaguely aware of Anti cumming as well; he doesn’t pull out, shooting out down your throat so you’re forced to swallow. A few last dribbles of his cum smear against your lips as his softening cock slips out of your mouth.

Dark keeps fucking you through it, the tentacle stroking your clit only drawing out the agonising bliss. You’re pretty sure you manage to cum multiple times, but everything blurs together. It’s such a haze of too-fucking-much pleasure that you can hardly even remember your own name, never mind anything else.

It leaves you gasping as trembling as you finally come down. Dark leans over you and you hear him groan lowly as he releases as well. Inside you. Again. You don’t even know what kind of cum tentacles produce, and it makes you squirm to think about him filling you up with it.

Then the tentacles slide free, and you slump down on the table. You pull your arms out from beneath you, Dark’s command about keeping them in place finally broken now it’s all over, but beyond that you’re utterly incapable of moving.

Ever so gradually, your breathing starts to even out, heart rate settling back to normal. Your body still feels like putty, weak and used and all too malleable, thrumming with the remnants of the pleasurable torture you’ve been subjected to. You don’t want to do anything other than to find a blanket to bury into and sleep for at least a day, but there’s still Dark and Anti to deal with.

Reluctantly, you groan and force yourself up onto one elbow. You try to sit up on the edge of the coffee table, but even that is too much; instead you let yourself sink onto the floor, turning so you can lean all your weight back against the sofa.

They’re watching you, and finally feeling yourself scrutinised by the two demons you realise they’re both fully dressed again while you’re completely naked. Your face flushes, and you quickly bring your legs together and cover your chest with an arm. You feel far too vulnerable like this now.

“I…” You swallow. What do you even say after that?

“Enjoy yerself, doll?” Anti asks, leering down at you. Though at least they’re giving you some space, standing at the other side of the room with the coffee table between you like an overly ineffective barrier, but you’ll take what you can get.

You don’t answer the question. You _did_ enjoy yourself, in some very messed up way – much more than you should have, honestly – but you’re not really sure it’s appropriate to admit as much.

“We’ve wasted enough time here,” Dark says, all business again.

Anti rolls his eyes, but he’s grinning, if somewhat callously. He’s clearly in a much better mood after two orgasms. “Yeah, well _you_ sure enjoyed yourself.”

Dark straightens his suit, huffing dismissively. “Regardless.” He turns on you, so impersonal despite having just fucked you senseless. “Make your choice.”

You glance between them. Fuck. They still want you to choose one of them? To… what, sell your soul to? To belong to? What does that even mean? They would own you, you suppose; could tell you to do anything, do whatever they liked to you. Do _that_ to you.

It’s definitely not your brain thinking when you hesitantly reply, “…both?”

Anti snorts, thoroughly amused. Dark less so.

“You are missing the point—”

“Aw, why not?” Anti interrupts.

“A soul cannot belong to us both,” Dark says scathingly, like Anti’s the one being an utter fool now.

“Sure, but we’d only claim it for good once she’s dead. Got plenty of time ‘fore that. _I’m_ down to share in the meantime.”

“You want to share,” he repeats flatly.

“What, you don’t? Ya gotta admit that was kinda hot. We could have so much _fun_ ,” Anti purrs. He’s looking at you again as he says it, and your stomach flips.

Dark actually considers it. “Fine,” he finally agrees. “We share. For now.”

Anti grins, irritatingly smug at having got his way. He winks at you; it’s not at all reassuring. “Guess we’ll be seein’ ya later, doll,” he says. The lights flicker, and you hear he echo of his laugh as he glitches and fades out of this plane of existence.

That leaves you alone with Dark. He steps forward, coming around to stand beside you. Leaning down, he takes your jaw in his hand, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. “Do not think you’re better off for having made this choice. For the time being, you now belong to us both; arguably an even worse situation than if you’d just made a decision in the first place.”

“Depends on your definition of ‘worse’,” you manage to reply. You’re as surprised as Dark is that you were able to form any sort of coherent comeback, even though you both know you’re just putting on a brave face. Still, it gets a cold chuckle out of Dark.

“Perhaps you will be fun after all,” he says.

Darkness flares up behind him like a portal, and he turns and vanishes into it without so much as a backwards glance. Tension you didn’t even know you were holding bleeds out of you, and you slump back against the sofa. Your stomach feels like it’s tying itself in knots, equal parts dread and anticipation.

What the _fuck_ have you gotten yourself into? 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, hey. It's another chapter of this. :D I don't really have a plan for this fic as such - it's just a great setting now for when I feel like writing PWP, lol - but I'm thinking it would be fun to at least do another chapter that's just Dark/reader, and then another threesome chapter. This one is Anti/reader.
> 
>  **WARNINGS:** I’m gonna bump the dubcon warning up to outright **noncon**. There’s mentions of it kind of maybe being consensual noncon roleplay, but… well, this paragraph from the fic itself summarises it best:
> 
>   _“You don’t even know where the line is anymore; at what point does it stop being just a roleplay? Anti’s not roleplaying, he never fucking has been. He’s going to take whatever he wants from you, and it’s sheer dumb luck that you’re enough of a sick, perverted freak to enjoy it that way.”_
> 
> So like. Consent issues all over the place.
> 
>  **Other major warning is for Anti threatening to literally fuck the protaganist with his knife** (which he does, but only using the hilt). Also: **fearplay, painplay, violence, rough sex, abuse, electric play.** Anti is very much a demon and not nice about this.
> 
> If you’re still up for reading all that, good luck and enjoy. xp

You turn your head and bury your face into the pillow; you don’t exactly have the hands free to cover your mouth. Dildo in one hand and vibrator in the other, and normally you’re better at keeping quiet when you’re by yourself, even with the toys, but you keep thinking about  _them_  and—

It turns you on so much.

It  _shouldn’t_. It really shouldn’t. Now that you’ve had the distance and time to think, all logic screams that you should be terrified. Your soul belongs to two goddamn demons. And the things Anti and Dark did you—it was fucked up, and really, technically speaking, you weren’t in much of a position to consent.

But you got off so hard on it anyway.

You’re  _still_  getting off on it. It was specifically because you’d been thinking about that night that you’d ended up getting all needy and aroused. And now you’re a moaning, trembling mess, all tangled up in your own bedsheets. Pounding into yourself with your toy and imagining that it’s Anti’s dick instead, or that it’s Dark’s tongue pleasuring your clit instead of the vibrator – things your memory recalls intimately well – and  _fuck_.

Your phone buzzes on the bedside drawer, though you barely notice, lost in your own self-pleasure. Usually you’re never this into it when masturbating, but… well. The material fuelling your fantasies has reached a new level of hot lately.

Fuck the phone. You’re too close to care about that.

“Anti!” you choke. You clench your eyes shut, and you can practically see his face. That terrifying smile, full of lust and malice as he uses you and  _that shouldn’t be hot, why is that hot?_

You tilt the dildo just a little more to find the perfect angle, and you’re gone. You can feel yourself clenching around the toy, thighs trembling as your orgasm washes through you in shuddering waves of pleasure.

Not for the first time, you cum while remembering the way Anti fucked you. (Other times you’ve cum thinking of Dark. Or both of them. It’s so easy to get you going just thinking about everything they did to you.)

You switch off the vibrator and slowly slide the dildo out of yourself, groaning. You might have overdone it a little. Again. Fuck them. Fuck you.

The phone vibrates; you can hear the insistent buzz better now it’s not competing to be heard over the vibrator. You still don’t care. All you want to do is sink into the mattress, limp and satisfied. Because that had been good. Your body is still humming with pleasure, and honestly you’re tempted to go another round, but… breather first.

So you lay there, gasping breaths gradually evening out. You rest your hand on your thigh, imaging it belongs to Dark. The one groping your boob is Anti.

You’re almost dozing, until another sound from your phone starts you back to awareness. That’s—not right. It’s set to vibrate, it shouldn’t be making noise. And you’ve never programmed a goddamn doorbell noise onto your phone, especially not one that sounds a creepy and distorted as the noise it played just then.

Hairs starting to stand on end, you roll onto your side and pick up the phone, then almost immediately drop it.

Your heartrate spikes instantly. You didn’t even have time to read the messages, but—zalgo. Your phone screen is all glitched out, zalgo scrawled across the screen in lieu of where a normal text message should be.

“Oh,  _fuck_.”

There’s a noise outside your door – more of a glitching crackle than anything, and the lights gutter – and all of a sudden the doorbell noise makes sense. You can just about make out “I'̰m̗̗͚̻̪ ̫̣̙͓̻͖h͉e̡̥r̬̭͔̖̰e͕̣͔͉̞,̜̘̫̩̙̬̰͜ ҉p̡̳̗̯͓̫upp̸̱̣̞e̸͉͚͈̠͓̭͈t̻͇̹̣͚̟ ̴̥͔͎͍̠” on your phone’s screen as it skitters across the bed as you scramble to cover yourself with the sheets.

Why the  _hell_  did he have to decide to show up now?!

You’re halfway towards standing up, intending to grab some clothes, when Anti appears. Apparently he doesn’t care for your door – locked, since you  _were_  having some private time – and just glitches straight through it. Startling the hell out of you, and you shriek and lose your balance. Your foot is tangled in the sheet, and the options are to drop it or to fall yourself; you choose fall, and end up sprawled on the floor beside your bed.

Anti laughs, delighted that even just his appearance has enough impact to cause such havoc. Fuck. You forgot how terrifying his laugh could sound.

“A-Anti…” You swallow. “What are you doing here?”

Anti clucks his tongue. “What,” he says dangerously, “you’ve been ignoring my messages? Told ya, if ye’d bothered to read. I thought you might want a little  _help_  with your situation.”

“I…” Your face feels like it must be completely crimson with how much you’re blushing. How the hell did he even know?! Oh, god. Has he known every time?

He steps closer; every thud of his boots sounds like another death knell. You’re naked beneath the sheet that you’re just about managing to hold clutched to you, scrambling to sit up, while Anti towers above you in heavy military-style boots and ripped jeans and his tight-fitting black top, toying with his knife in one hand as he grins manically down at you. If that isn’t the perfect visual representation of just how fucked up and unbalanced the power difference between you is, nothing ever would be.

“Why?” you splutter, trying to ignore the way your heart races as you look up at him. Trying to ignore the needy ache between your legs, the heat rapidly pooling in your gut despite your better judgement, just from the sheer anticipation of Anti being here in person.

“Why what?” he asks.

“Why now? Why this time? How did you even…?”

Anti smirks, bending down so he can take your jaw in his hand and force your face up to meet his eyes. His claws dig into your skin and you let out a quiet whimper.

There’s an eerie glow in his eyes, an unsettling level of seriousness. “You  _belong_  to me. Remember that, doll? You sold your soul. And I  _know_  when my puppets are calling for me.” He pauses to run his tongue over sharp, pointed teeth, gaze darkening with lust in a way that makes your stomach flip. He looks at you like you’re his prey. “I jus’ so happened to have the time and inclination to have a little  _fun_ today.”

Your breath catches, and you don’t have time to reply before Anti’s mouth is on yours. You moan and melt into it; the kiss is immediately heated and demanding in a way that makes you want to squirm. Not that you can go anywhere, because Anti is still gripping your jaw tight enough to bring tears to your eyes.

That tongue—fuck. Anti forces your lips apart so he can slide his inhumanly long tongue inside, tasting you, practically ravaging your mouth with it. You can feel the sharpness of his teeth against your lips. And you’re helpless to do anything, you can barely even breathe, you need to—

You make an insistent, muffled noise of protest and try to shove Anti off. He doesn’t even notice at first, your strength is that insignificant to him, but eventually he realises and backs off. Leaving you absolutely breathless, head spinning and lips reddened and kiss-swollen.

“What’s the matter?” he asks. There’s something slightly mocking about his tone. “I though you  _wanted_  this.”

The toys still left on your bed, blatant incriminating evidence, and all your fantasies from earlier certainly would suggest so. And you  _do_ want it, even though you know you shouldn’t, it’s just—

Damnit. You didn’t want to admit it, but maybe you ought to be completely honest with him. With  _yourself_. “I do want this. I just… um. Kind of like it when… I pretend I don’t. And you force me anyway.”

“Oh?” Anti purrs. He settles his knees on either side of your hips, straddling you and pressing you back. “You’re into that sort of roleplay?”

All you can do is nod helplessly. It’s so hard to remember how to speak when you can feel his body against yours, only a single thin sheet hiding your nakedness. “…yeah. As long as it’s, y’know, just a roleplay. So it—it’s not that I mind, but maybe we should have a safeword? Just in case it goes too far.”

That, Anti snorts at. “Oh, you’re adorable. I don’t think you’re understanding how this relationship works, doll.”

You want to pick a safeword that would ruin the mood for Anti; more likely to actually get him to stop that way. “How about ‘Sean’?”

Immediately, you realise that was the worst suggestion you could possibly have made. Anti’s expression turns from amused to livid in an instant. Your heart skips a beat – not in a good way, this time – and you don’t even have time to react before Anti’s hand is around your throat.

You want to scream but you can’t make a sound, air completely cut off. He lifts you bodily with just his grip on your throat and slams you into the wall; pain lances through you, chest aching sharply as all the wind is forced out of you. Your head spins dizzyingly, black spots clouding your vision, and your fingers scrabble desperately, helplessly at Anti’s hand. Oh, god. You can’t breathe, you need him off you, but he doesn’t care, of course he doesn’t care, he’s a monster and you’re nothing to him, you’re—

“Don’t  _ever_  fuckin’ mention that prick’s name,” Anti growls thunderously. “Especially not when I’m having my way with ye. You call out his name instead of mine and I will  _murder_  you.”

You do not doubt the threat in the slightest.

There are tears running down your cheeks – from the lack of air, from terror – and Anti’s grip on your throat only tightens. He could so easily crush your windpipe like this, or snap your neck entirely, and the worst thing is, as terrified as you are, there’s still a part of you that’s just as turned on by the fear.

Just as harshly and abruptly, Anti lets you go. A few seconds more and you would have passed out; even as it is, you’re too weak to do anything other than collapse to the floor in a trembling heap, lungs burning as you desperately gasp for air and beg for his mercy.

“I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean—I’m sorry, I won’t—Anti,  _please!_ ”

He kicks you – not  _hard_ , at least, more like just shoving you with his foot, though even that much hurts – so that you’re forced to roll over. Laid out on the floor on your back, his boot on your chest pinning you down. His smile is downright cruel. “Good thing yer into this kind of roleplay, huh?” he says.

He’s mocking you again. You don’t even know where the line is anymore; at what point does it stop being just a roleplay? He’s not roleplaying, he never fucking has been. He’s going to take whatever he wants from you, and it’s sheer dumb luck that you’re enough of a sick, perverted freak to enjoy it that way.

“A-Anti, I…”

“By the time I’m done with you, you won’t even be able to remember your own name. Never mind anyone else’s.”

You can’t work out if it’s a threat or a promise. Both, maybe. The idea of it makes you squirm in anticipation, face heating up, even though you know you should still be horrified. You  _are_  still horrified. But… this is going to happen regardless, so you might as well enjoy yourself.

God, you must be sick.

Your mind is still reeling and your lungs aching, but you’ve recovered enough to pull yourself together at least a little. You lick your lips and meet his eyes.

“Anti, please. Don’t do this,” you say softly.

And he  _laughs_. He knows you don’t mean it; not this time, at least. He’s only amused that you’ve been through all that, his flash of genuine anger, and you’re still going to play along with your little game.

A part of you resents him for making you feel so conflicted, and you hate yourself for giving in so easily, but  _fuck_. You want him. You want him to hurt you, use you, fuck you until you can’t see straight. You’re going to pretend you don’t though. Because you get off on that even more.

Anti reaches down to grip your throat again; firmly, but closer to a caress this time. It’s still enough that you can feel how bruised and sore the flesh is beneath his touch, and you wince.

“Why don’t I show you a little trick, puppet?”

You dread to think what that means. But you swallow, slowly, helplessly nodding your agreement. There’s a violent light in Anti’s eyes that you don’t dare defy.

“Get up, then.”

Reluctantly, you push yourself to your feet. Your chest still aches, and it feels like your back is probably bruised as well where he slammed you into the wall. You don’t  _think_  any ribs are broken. The sheet covering you is barely hanging on – it’s only by virtue of you having gotten so tangled in it that’s it stayed at all, because you were certainly in no position to be holding it in place while Anti was tossing you around like a goddamn ragdoll – and you try to pull it back up, but Anti isn’t having that. He purposefully steps on the corner of it, his predatory smile just fucking daring you to try to cover yourself.

You drop the sheet. Anti stalks towards you and every instinct screams to back away; you can only take a few steps before hitting the wall again. Leaving you trapped. And naked. You’ve never felt so vulnerable, and it’s simultaneously terrifying and thoroughly arousing.

Anti blocks your escape, bracing the hand holding the knife beside your head. The other slides down your side; you can feel his sharp nails grazing against your skin, feel his hot breath against your cheek.

“Anti—” you begin, only to be cut off into an abrupt moan, eyes widening as his hand slides between your legs.

“That’s what I thought,” he says, curling his fingers against you. Despite everything, you’re so wet you’re practically dripping with it, and the way Anti is touching you is—

Your head falls back, face flushing brightly. Good. God, that feels so fucking good. But, of course, it’s not going to last; it wouldn’t be Anti if pleasure was all he gave you.

His grin widens, baring teeth, and then his nails tear into the inside of your thigh and you shriek.

“You’re still so turned on—”

“Anti, that  _hurts!_ ”

“—no matter what I do to you.”

“ _Please_.”

Anti’s expression hardens. He still hasn’t entirely forgiven your misguided suggestion. Or maybe the fact you thought you had enough say to demand a safeword in the first place. “What, you think you don’t  _deserve_  this?”

“I-I…”

He kneels down and then his head is between your legs, and he licks over the bloody gashes he’s left clawed into you.

The back and forth is dizzying. Pain. Pleasure. How terrifying he is, how violent and unpredictable one moment, then  _this_  the next.

His sharp teeth bite into you and you whimper.

There’s blood stained on his lips when he comes back up, and that’s—that shouldn’t be as hot as it is. Especially when he licks his lips clean and smirks.

“But. I was gonna show ye something, wasn’t I?”

Your head is spinning too much to keep up. You just—you’re aching and trembling and so turned on, and all you want is something inside you. Anti. You want Anti’s cock inside you. You don’t fucking care what he has planned you just  _need it._

Anti laughs at your blank, desperate expression. He digs his hand into your hair and pulls your head back; his touch has always raised goosebumps on your skin, always felt like static, but this time he’s doing it on purpose. There’s something specifically…  _electric_  about his touch. Literally. Because he raises the knife to your exposed throat and it sparks like a goddamn violet wand.

You yelp, part surprise and part pain. It doesn’t hurt badly, just… stings. The pain hot and biting, but fleeting.

That was just a warning; you’re certain Anti will hurt you worse before this is over.

“What are you…?”

His fingers claw over your scalp. “As long as I’m holding onto you, I can make you live. In an electrical sense,” he drawls. “So then anything metal that touches ye…”

He demonstrates by pressing the tip of the knife to the hollow of your throat, and you feel it immediately. The electricity. Like a static shock, but a hundred times worse. The first warning zap was fleeting, and that you could handle, but this time he doesn’t draw the knife away. The pain just keeps building until it  _burns_ , biting, unrelenting, and you whimper.

“Anti–!” You don’t dare move, not with the knife so close to somewhere so delicate, but all you want to do is squirm away. Fleeting pain you can handle, but this is…

Anti laughs, that callous, terrifying, glitching sound. “Don’t you like it, doll?”

“It  _hurts_.”

He only increases the pressure, until the knife pierces your skin and blood begins to trickle along the blade. God. It’s only shallow, but one slip of his hand and he could server your windpipe in an instant.

Anti grins. “ _Good_.” At least then he moves the knife, and you let out a shuddering sigh of relief. Not that the relief lasts for long. “Get on the bed,” he demands; his hand buried in your hair tightens, a silent promise that if you don’t go willingly he will drag you there himself, and it won’t be pretty.

He lets you go then, so that you’re actually able to obey him. Your legs are trembling as you make your way back to the bed and wriggle into the middle, heart pounding. It was like this with them before; you can’t tell if what you feel is fear or a sick, twisted arousal. No–it’s both mixed together, making it even more intoxicating. But your breathing is unsteady, too shallow and rapid, face flushed, and the anticipation leaves you shaking and needy.

Anti strips off his shirt and boots as he stalks after you, wearing only his jeans by the time he crawls onto the bed to join you. He still has the knife, and an unholy light in his eyes.

You keep your thighs clenched together, as if the pressure from that will do anything at all to alleviate the ache between your legs. He’s right. He’s fucking right; you’re still so turned on. Despite the fact he hurts you, or  _because_  of it.

Definitely because of it.

He digs his nails into your legs as he forcibly spreads your knees apart. You fight him momentarily, weakly keeping up the act. But there’s no contest against his strength, and then he’s shoving you back and pinning you down with a hand around your throat, hips flush against yours. You can feel how hard he is even through the thick denim; your hips buck against him instinctively, and Anti growls.

“Needy little slut.” His grip on you tightens; not putting pressure on your windpipe this time, but the arteries at either side of your neck. Choking the blood supply, rather than air, but it still leaves you feeling heady and helpless beneath him.

He’s doing the electric thing again as well; he runs the flat of the knife blade down the length of your body, the metal sparking against you the entire way, and you arch and squirm beneath him. His grin turns feral, and your eyes widen as you realise—he presses the flat of the blade between your legs, and you cry out. That’s fucking  _sensitive_ and the static shock right  _there_  is awful, the most awful bliss you’ve ever experienced, but you don’t dare try to move to get away from it because  _knife_.

Anti turns the blade until it’s not the flat anymore, holding it in a distinctly suggestive manner, and you freeze. He trails the point of it down to your entrance, and your blood turns to ice. You can taste bile rising in your throat. He—oh, fuck, he wouldn’t. There’s no way—he wouldn’t—he  _couldn’t_  literally fuck you with it, you have limits and there’s definitely a hard line at actual serious bodily harm and—fuck.  _Fuck_.

“N-no! Nononono,  _please_. Anti, don’t…” Your voice is shaking, and you’re startling to babble, but. The worst thing is you  _wouldn’t put it past him_  and it makes you feel physically sick.

“Are you afraid of me?”

“ _Yes._ ”

“Good. You  _should_  be.” His voice is cold.

Is that what this is about? You haven’t been taking him seriously enough? Too busy playing your little fucking game, getting off on the fear and forgetting that he’s a goddamn  _monster_.

“I’m sorry!” you gasp. “I’m  _sorry_.”

He smiles, the expression utterly terrifying, and you  _scream_  as you feel something press into you.

You’re so wrapped up in your horror it takes you a moment to realise it’s not sharp, not cutting you; he’s flipped the knife around, and it’s the hard, rounded end of the hilt that Anti is using to penetrate you. You’re not sure if the tears on your face are from fear or relief.

Your hands fly up, fingers clutching at his shoulders, and despite everything you find yourself letting out a shuddering moan. It’s not exactly  _comfortable_ ; the hilt is hard and unyielding, and the shape of it feels foreign inside you, but you’re still slick and ready from playing with yourself before and all your needy anticipation, and it’s all too easy for Anti to slide the hilt all the way into you. That’s fucked up. It’s so fucked up, but you needed something in you so desperately that even the goddamn  _knife_  feels kind of good.

Anti only laughs darkly at you. “Still into it… it’s almost adorable what a filthy little freak you are.”

“A-Anti…” you beg helplessly.

He fucks you with the hilt, a slow, smooth, but unrelenting pace, and all you can do is lie there and take it. You don’t dare move, because there’s still the blade  _right there_ , but you can’t stop yourself twitching and clenching around the knife’s handle. Your head lolls back, whimpers falling from your lips.

“God,” he grunts, his voice almost as rough as yours. He’s clearly enjoying tormenting you, enjoying the fucked up things he’s doing to you. You already know he’s hard as hell beneath his jeans; you felt it before, and the bulge beneath the fabric is clearly visible.

It’s a risk, but then what fucking isn’t in this situation? You want to touch him.

You keep clinging to him, one arm wrapped around his shoulders while your other hand trails down over his chest and abs. He doesn’t stop you, not even when you reach the waistband of his jeans; he only hisses encouragingly when your fingers fumble at the zip.

The knife is… scaring you, honestly, even though it  _does_  feel kind of good, in some messed up way. Anti’s cock would still feel better. So you undo his jeans and draw him out, stroking along his length and praying he doesn’t punish you for being so forward.

Anti groans, enjoying it too much to be pissed off. “You want that, you little whore? You’d rather have my dick in you?”

You really shouldn’t get off so much on having him degrade you, but his words make heat flare in your gut. “Yeah…” You lick your too-dry lips. “ _Yes_. Please.” So much for pretending you didn’t want it.

His cock feels so thick and hot and hard in your hand, those little ridges of cartilage running along the sides. Foreign, but good. You pump your fist around him until Anti’s eyes darken with need, pupils blowing wide as he stares down at you.

He growls. Anti pulls the knife out of you, hilt sliding free – your shuddering moan is mostly one of relief, yet at the same time you feel so achingly empty – and casts it aside. You don’t care where.

“Then get on your hands and knees like a good little bitch,” Anti commands harshly.

You’d obey anything; you don’t have a choice. You need him.

He grips your hips the moment you’re in position, hard enough he’s probably going to leave bruises, but the thought just sends a thrill through you. He’s pushed his jeans down his thighs, enough to get to you, and you moan as you feel his cock press against you, the thick head rubbing at your entrance. You’re slick enough it’s practically dripping down your thighs, so turned on and ready for him.

He doesn’t give you any warning at all, just yanks your hips back roughly, abruptly filling you with his cock. All you can do is clench your fingers into the sheet and  _scream_.

He fills you up so good; so much better than the knife hilt. His cock is hot and heavy, buried all the way inside you, and you can hear his glitching little noises of pleasure as you tremble needily around him.

“A-Anti, oh,  _fuck_ , I…”

“You love it, fucking cockslut.”

Your words turn incoherent as he starts moving.

Rough. Of course he’s rough. You like it that way, though.

It only takes a few thrusts before your shaking arms can’t hold your weight; you collapse onto the covers, chest down, and Anti delights into fucking you face-first into the mattress. He pins you down with a hand on the back of your neck, leaning over you as he slams his cock home and makes you cry out.

Your face is flushed and overheated, pleasure jolting through you every time Anti rams into you from behind. Fingers scrabbling desperately at the covers, as if that would help you ground yourself, the arch of your back almost painful but you can’t do anything other than moan helplessly at the way Anti is using you.

His mouth latches onto you; your shoulders, the back of your neck. His sharp teeth tug at your skin, kissing and sucking and biting down, enough to leave vivid hickeys and marks all over you. Enough to  _hurt_ , but what does that matter. It only hurts in the best way possible.

You surrender to him completely, letting him use your body however he pleases. Your head is swimming, eyes glazed over. The way his cock is stroking inside you, the way he pounds into you— _fuck_. It shouldn’t feel this good to let him use you and abuse you. But the depravity of it, the thrill of fear, the way he treats you so roughly… it’s hot, so fucking hot, and you’re moaning exactly like the goddamn little whore he claims you are.

Anti’s name is the only coherent word you’re capable of getting out, though even that is ragged and broken and muffled by the way your face is buried into the covers.

“Anti… nngh, f-fuck—keep going, fuck me, Anti, please!”

You feel his dark, breathless little chuckle against your ear almost as much as you hear it; he bites down on the lobe and you whine. “You’re gonna cum, aren’t you?”

“Y- _yes_.”

It’s embarrassing how quickly he can push you to the edge by treating you that way. But  _god_ , how are you supposed to react? His cock feels so good. He’s all over you, hands and mouth working over you while he fills you up over and over and over and—

You cum. Hard. Pleasure washes through you in heady waves until you’re incoherent with it.

Anti was right about one thing; you’re pretty sure you couldn’t even remember your own name like this. Only his. And you gasp it out like a litany as he keeps on fucking you to his own completion.

For a moment it’s almost sweet, the way he wraps his arms around your waist and presses the length of his body against yours, murmuring filth into your ear as he fills you up with his cum. He pulls your head back and kisses you, slowly rolling his hips to let your trembling cunt milk his cock.

You make a small noise of surprise against his lips, but—you’ll take it. You’re battered and bruised and exhausted, burnt out from adrenaline and fear, and the small amount of affection feels heavenly in contrast.

Anti pulls out of you, and you immediately collapse onto the bed. You’re filthy, slick with sweat and bodily fluids from the both of you. A shower would be blissful, but you really… really don’t have the strength to move.

Anti grins; less terrifying now, and more smugly satisfied. “Mm. Such a fun little puppet to play with,” he says, eyes raking lazily over you. Enjoying the mess he’s left you in.

“Anti,” you moan. Your head is still swimming, darkness clouding the edges of your vision, and you realise there really is no chance of you moving or cleaning up at all. It fact, you’re pretty sure you’re going to pass out.

He knows; he doesn’t care. He only laughs. “What, only up for one round?” he mocks. “We’ll have to work on your stamina.”

You have no idea if he’s joking or not, but the implication makes you shudder. He could. You belong to him, after all, he could do whatever he liked. He could train you that way, to be just a little toy for him.

 _Hot_. In an extremely fucked up way.

It’s not like you have time to worry about it, exhaustion quickly overtaking you. Anti kisses you one last time – briefly, hotly, too much bite to it to be considered tender – and then sleep claims you.

You know he’ll be long gone by the time you wake up.


End file.
